The Heart of a Thief
by Snoball13
Summary: Oneshot. Basically, Gambit gets drunk thinking about Rogue, and she finds him. Poor Remy. R&R, flames accepted.


Remy LeBeau sat at the bar, looking very thoughtful. _'Why can't Remy catch his Rogue? Dere is not'ing Remy can t'ink to do anymore' _It was very rare for Remy to be out of ideas on how to flirt. But Rogue just somehow managed to evade his charm. _'Perhaps Remy is losing his charm. Or maybe Rogue really does hate me?' _

The thought of this was too much for him. He had never before met a girl that wasn't taken that wasn't in love with him. It simply didn't seem possible.

He ordered another drink and contemplated the thought some more. He had thought of everything, and yet nothing had worked. She simply didn't like him.

He looked around and saw a couple laughing. The girl was lying in the man's arms and snuggling against his chest. _'Why doesn't Rogue see how much Remy loves her? Or does she not care?' _ The girl looked up into the man's eyes and whispered something Remy couldn't hear. The man responded with a gentle kiss to her lips. _'How can Rogue not love Remy? Can't she see how it hurts him?'_

In his mind's eye he replayed what he had seen, replacing the couple with himself and Rogue. But that was impossible. She didn't feel that way about him. She never would.

The solid truth of the matter finally hit him, and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

He shook his head like a dog and the couple came back into view. They were now kissing passionately, not seeming to care about anything but each other.

Remy would give anything to be kissing Rogue like that. He longed to feel her lips on his, to feel her skin pressing against him, to think about nothing in the world but her, and her him.

With a third drink, his memory returned to the day he had taken her to his home with him, back to the Louisiana bayous where he had grown up.

He gave a small smile at the remembrance of her attacking him, and her telling him she didn't want him in her head. He hadn't meant to fall in love with her, but her hair, and her attitude, and her eyes… her eyes had drawn him in like no girl ever had.

He had flirted with other girls because it was fun to watch them fall all over themselves in adoration for him, but Rogue… Rogue had been different. He had flirted with her because he had felt the same way about her that other girls felt about him.

He remembered the joy he had felt when she saved him from attackers, and then the sadness when she realized that he had been using her. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but he had, and he truly regretted it. Then he felt all over again the elation when she had returned to rescue him, whether he needed it or not.

Finally, there was the utter devastation when she decided to leave him, to go back with her brother and friends. _'Ah, Remy,' _he thought._ 'How could you have expected her to choose you over dose she trusted?'_

And then he decided to make her decision easier by moving into the Institute. The others hadn't trusted him at first, and quite frankly, neither had Rogue. But he made himself worthy of trust eventually, only angering anyone by flirting with Rogue, or cheating at poker. But how had they expected him not to? It was just too tempting. He smirked slightly.

After a while, the only one not to trust him was Wolverine. He never let Rogue and himself alone for too long, mainly because it was him. He never truly gave a punishment, always saying something like, "I've got my eye on you, Gambit. And if you ever do anything to hurt Stripes, you'll have me to answer to."

But Remy never did do anything to hurt her, so Wolverine never had to call him out. He never, ever, would hurt his Rogue. If only she would stop hurting him….

He ordered his fifth drink (there had been a fourth somewhere in the middle of his thoughts) and let his mind drift away.

Suddenly, he was walking down the sidewalk in New Orleans to the club he had taken Rogue into. He opened the door and walked in, looking around for an open set at the bar. What he saw instead was even better.

Staring back at him were a pair of beautiful green eyes. The same eyes that he had been dreaming about for months now, ever since she had left him in the bayou. The girl stood up and walked to him. "How did ya know ya would find me here, Remy?" Rogue asked.

"Dat doesn't matter, Cherie. All dat matters now is you, and dat we are together."

"I know, Remy. I love you,"

"I love you too, Cherie. I really do." He leaned in to kiss her, but she pushed him away.

"I know, Remy. But you need to wake up now."

"But I'm not asleep. I'm not dreaming. Please don't go!" But even as he spoke the words, her image faded away, leaving him surrounded by darkness.

Remy's eyes blinked open. He had dozed off at the bar, and he could feel tears stinging behind his eyes. He had to stay strong, he knew, and blinked back the tears. He finished off his drink and stood up to head back to his apartment.

About two weeks ago he had given up and moved out of the Institute. Then there would be space for someone else for Rogue to fall in love with. He had accepted his failure and left her for good.

But as he turned for the door, it felt like deja vous. The eyes from his dream stared at him from a few feet away.

"Remy?" Rogue asked.

"Rogue?" he asked, sounding sad.

"What're ya doin' here?" she asked.

"T'inking of you," he said, very wistfully.

She looked annoyed at first, and then saw no hint of his usual smirk. The only thing she could find in his eyes was regret and sadness. Despite herself, she began to worry about him.

"What about me?" she asked cautiously. When he gave no response except for sinking back onto his stool, she frowned. "Remy, are you okay? You – you don't look so good."

"Non, mah Cherie. Not anymore."

"What's wrong? Ya're not sick, are ya?"

The bar was nearly empty now, so she sat down next to him on a stool.

"Non, Cherie, dat is not what ails me."

"Then what is?"

He remained silent for a moment, and then finally he couldn't hold in the question any longer. "Why don't you love me, Cherie?"

"Remy, I… you're not sober, Remy. You need to go home. We have to go back to the Institute. Come on." She took his hand in hers, glove on skin, and made to pull him toward the door.

He pulled her back to face him and looked into those gorgeous eyes. "Non, Rogue. I won't go anywhere until you answer me. Why don't you love me?" He asked more desperately this time, his eyes searching hers longingly.

She groaned and pulled away from him, but even as she did, she answered him. "Dammit, Swamp Rat, I _do_ love you. Can't you see that?"

"Den, why did you avoid me, Cherie?" He looked slightly happier, but his eyes still held immeasurable depths of sadness.

"Because I didn't want to hurt ya, in any way. I didn't want ya to get tired of not being able to touch me, or for me ta feel that way. And I didn't want ta get hurt…." Remy could feel the word _'again'_ ringing in the silence after her sentence.

"Remy would never hurt you, Cherie, not for the greatest treasure in the world," he whispered sweetly. "To Remy, you are the greatest treasure."

She gave him a small frown and she started to feel scared. "You're drunk, Remy. I'm sorry, we need to go." She faltered at the look he had as he remained looking at her. It wasn't his usual smirk, nor was it sad as it had been before. It was oddly soft and reminiscent, and… if she wasn't mistaken… longing…. "Remy, I – Remy, why are ya looking at me like that?"

"Because Remy would like to kiss, you, Cherie," he said, in a strangely kind, careful tone.

"Remy, I already told ya, ya're drunk. Ya know ya can't touch me. I –"

She broke off as he pulled her close to him, and she could feel his heart beating against hers. She got one last glimpse of his red-on-black eyes before they closed, and then he was kissing her. She resisted for only a second, and then freed herself to the joy of it.

Remy could feel her try to pull away for a moment, but he cradled her head in his hand so she couldn't. Then she gave in and started to kiss him back. His heart leapt with joy when she did, and then he simply enjoyed the sensation of her lips pressed against his, soft and sweet, and the feel of her body pressed against him, so perfectly, and her hand moving up his back and through his hair.

They broke apart all too soon for his liking. She looked happy for a moment, then the reality of what had happened sunk in and she looked up in horror, obviously expecting to see him dead. She saw that he wasn't and looked shocked for a moment, then angry.

"Remy, ya jerk! I thought I'd killed ya! How did ya…" she trailed off.

"A master never reveals his secrets," he said mysteriously.

"Then let's see how many secrets ya can keep from me," she said, pulling off a glove.

"Remy was kidding, Cherie. Your powers cannot hurt moi. They draw not on my life force, but on the extra energy I have for charging my cards."

"Why didn't ya tell me?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry, Cherie, but you never would have believed me."

"Still… It would've helped knowing."

"Does this help?" he asked, and kissed her again. This kiss was momentary, but it did its job. When they surfaced for breath, Rogue was smiling.

"A bit," she said. Then a thought hit her. "Why did you come here tonight, Remy?"

"To forget, about you, Cherie. To forget everything I love about you." Rogue cocked her head. "But Remy got somet'ing much better."

"Somethin' better?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Oui, Cherie. He got you," he said, and resumed kissing her.


End file.
